


gilded cage

by marmolita



Category: The Borgias (Showtime TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cunnilingus, F/M, Femdom, Light Femdom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sibling Incest, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-19 22:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: "Are you mine, brother?" she asks.  "Or am I yours?"There's heat in her voice, though it's tempered by whatever this is that's troubling her.  Cesare turns her around in his arms and leans in, touching his forehead to hers.  "Is there a difference?" he asks.  What does it matter, as long as they are each other's?





	gilded cage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeats/gifts).



> yeats, I hope you enjoy this! I couldn't quite pull off giving them a happy ending, but this is set during canon so you can imagine whatever alternate ending you desire. :) Set during season 3 episode 9.
> 
> WARNINGS: sibling incest of course, and unhealthy relationship content in general, which I would hope that anyone who watched this show is already familiar with.

It's late afternoon when Cesare walks into the nursery and finds his sister rocking her son in her arms. He timed his visit precisely: Giovanni down for his nap, Alfonso out practicing his fencing. Lucrezia is beautiful as always, stroking her son's hair as she sways with him, but when she catches the look in his eyes she settles him down in his crib. "Good afternoon, brother," she says mildly, though when their eyes meet he can feel the energy sparking between them.

"Lucrezia," he acknowledges. "Is Giovanni well?"

She nods at her maids, then leaves the nursery, and he follows behind her, anticipation building. "He is a healthy boy," she says with a smile, "and seems none the worse for the time we spent separated."

"I'm glad to hear it," he says, and he is. Having her near him is all he wants, and what Lucrezia wants is to have her son. "And yourself? Are you glad to be back in the Vatican?" He doesn't say _back with me_ \-- he knows she's glad to be with him. The fact that she's leading him to her bedroom tells him that without the need for words.

They enter the bedroom, and Lucrezia lets out a laugh that has a bitter edge to it. "I've traded one prison for another," she says, "though at least with better company."

Cesare frowns. "A prison? Lucrezia, you're safe here. You're . . . with me." He slides his arms around her from behind as she closes the bedroom door, and she leans back into his embrace. She smells wonderful, and he presses his lips against her neck lightly, then more firmly as she sighs and tilts her head to allow him more room.

This thing between them has always been wrong, but it seems hard to believe that he ever kept himself from indulging in it. Lucrezia, though, beautiful Lucrezia, has always been so full of passion and desire, and he could no more resist her seduction than he could stop the sun from rising. Now, after both of their marriages and a long separation, and everything else that's happened, the things that kept him from touching her before seem unimportant. He kisses her neck, then her collarbone, his palm splaying low across her belly as his other hand moves up to her bodice.

"Are you mine, brother?" she asks. "Or am I yours?"

There's heat in her voice, though it's tempered by whatever this is that's troubling her. Cesare turns her around in his arms and leans in, touching his forehead to hers. "Is there a difference?" he asks. What does it matter, as long as they are each other's?

"I would have you be mine," she says, then closes the distance and kisses him. Her lips are soft and sweet as they always are, parting to allow him to deepen the kiss without hesitation.

"I _am_ yours," he murmurs between heated kisses, "as you are mine." His hands close firmly around her waist before moving up to pluck at the fastenings of her clothing. Since their reunion, she's brought him into her bed more than once; her boy of a husband can't possibly give this to her, can't possibly know how to touch a woman properly to make her gasp and moan.

He starts to turn her to walk her backwards toward the bed, but she surprises him by instead shoving him so he falls to the mattress. Lucrezia climbs on top of him and tugs at his belt and the buckles of his doublet, her face intense and her hands impatient. He reaches up to try to pull off her dress, but she pushes his hands back down, leaning over him. "You say you love me, brother," she says, "but you have trapped me in a gilded cage and will not set me free. How am I to believe it?"

"Lucrezia," he breathes, rolling his hips up against her so she can feel how much he wants her, "everything I have done has been for you." He never intended for this to be a cage for her, but is a cage not a better fate than death?

"Prove it," she whispers against his lips, moving his hands up above his head. She slides his belt out and wraps it around his wrists, tying them together as he looks at her in alarm and confusion. This has never been part of their play before, but there's little he will not do for his sister. "Show me how you love me," she says as he tugs against the bonds to test them. She pushes his hands down again then climbs off the bed to divest herself of her clothing until she's gloriously naked.

Cesare watches fervently, his cock straining at his breeches as each expanse of smooth, pale skin is revealed to him: her creamy arms, the curve of her breasts, her slender waist and smooth thighs. He licks his lips in anticipation as she climbs back over him and slides her hands under his shirt, rucking it up until it's bunched in his armpits. When she can't push it any further, she shuffles up so that her knees land on either side of his head. "My husband will not do this for me," she says, her sex inches from his face. "Will you, I wonder?"

He will, and he does, straining his neck up to slide his tongue along the length of her folds. She moans and lowers herself the rest of the way, and Cesare worships her with his lips and tongue. If this is how she wants him to prove he loves her, he will do it gladly. He wishes his hands were free so he could take hold of her round buttocks and pull her closer. Moaning eagerly, he presses his lips against her, this most intimate kiss and the trembling of her thighs making his cock so hard it aches.

She begins to move against his face, her hips rolling to get his mouth where she wants it the most, pressing down against him so he can hardly breathe. The way she rides his face makes him desperate to have her ride his cock instead. One of her hands comes to his hair, holding him steady as she grinds against him in tighter and faster movements until she lets out a choked cry, her body clenching around his tongue as she finds her release.

When she moves down, sitting back against him and making a mess of his belly with her wet cunt, he can only try to tell her with his eyes how ardently he wants to be inside her. She smiles and leans down to wipe his chin with her thumb, gathering her juices on it and then pushing her thumb into his mouth. He sucks on it loyally, and when she pulls it back she trails it slowly over his lower lip. "Shall I reward you for that?" she muses.

Lucrezia has always had power over him, but she's never tried to _use_ it before. "Sister," he says, his voice rough and low with arousal, "what game are you playing here?"

She turns away, moving off of him so that she can unlace his pants and slide them down and off. "We're too old for games, brother," she says. His cock springs free, hard and flushed and wet at the tip, and he almost groans in relief. He starts to move his arms, but is stopped by the belt around his wrists. "You were a priest," Lucrezia says as she straddles him again. "You've worshipped at God's altar." She leans toward him and strokes his cheek; he turns his face into her touch and presses a kiss to her palm. "Who do you love more? God, or your sister?"

She says this isn't a game, but he feels like he's lost track of the rules, and it's maddening. "Lucrezia," he breathes in a frustrated exhale, then leans up to kiss her, hoping it will be answer enough. The unholy family, indeed. She slides down onto his cock, her tight, slick heat surrounding him, and both of them moan. "Release me," he murmurs, breathing hard as she starts to move, "so that I can please you properly."

Lucrezia smiles. It's no longer the innocent smile of the young girl she was, but the sharp smile of the powerful woman she's become. "Is that how you ask nicely for something you want?"

Her face is unreadable, the depths of her gaze telling him both of her desire for him and the pain she carries. Once, after they'd both found their pleasure and were laying in the afterglow, she'd asked him if he wanted to run away with her. Give it all up, the position, their fortune, and move to the countryside with Giovanni. A small town like the one Micheletto is from, where they could change their names and live out the rest of their lives in obscurity. Is that what she's after, with this power game? Testing him, to see if he's willing to give it all up for her?

"Please," he says finally, searching her eyes to try to make her understand. They are Borgias, and they will always be Borgias. She unbuckles the belt and it falls away, and he reaches out and touches her all over, caressing and fondling as he guides her to ride him faster. After that, there's no more thinking. He plants his feet and thrusts up into her, and she pushes back against him, both of them seeking the blissful oblivion of release the only way they know how.

Cesare holds her, when it's over, and pets her hair. "Do you really feel trapped?" he asks her quietly.

She only looks at him. "Do you not?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to misswonderheart for beta!


End file.
